


Unsleeping

by LeeBarnett



Series: Personal Development [5]
Category: Milo Murphy's Law
Genre: Angst, Car Sex, Clothed Sex, Frottage, M/M, Make Outs, no pistachio plants were harmed in the making of this fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-26
Updated: 2018-06-26
Packaged: 2019-05-28 21:27:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,468
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15058154
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LeeBarnett/pseuds/LeeBarnett
Summary: “Focus on the mission,” Cavendish replies snippily, staring intently out the windshield at the little sprouts of trees in the field before them. Vinnie snorts. “Well, find some way of entertaining yourself so you don’t fall asleep!”“We’re parked in a car in the middle of nowhere in the middle of the night, Cav, there’s only like, maybe two things I can think of that might be mildly entertaining to do right now,” Vinnie says. “And one of them is tipping cows, which I’m not even sure is a real thing.”





	Unsleeping

**Author's Note:**

> ayy this ends w a bit of a cliffhanger just a heads up! i intend to circle back to this series once i have more time and energy but like i mentioned in the notes of the last part 2018 has not been kind to me wheeze but yeah bit of a more open ending than the others that may not be resolved for a while just fyi <3

It’s a quiet night, about three AM, and Vinnie’s dozing off in the passenger seat of the time machine. They’re doing surveillance on a small grove of pistachio trees on the outskirts of town, and Vinnie just wants to be asleep, even if it’s going to give him a crick in his neck. They’ve been out here for hours and it’s starting to get warm and stuffy in the time machine, despite the coolness of the season. Vinnie is closer to full-out sleeping rather than just dozing when Cavendish reaches over and swats at him.

“Don’t fall asleep!” Cavendish hisses. “We’re on a mission.”

“Yeah, a mission in the dead of night on a _Thursday_ ,” Vinnie yawns. “Gimme a break.”

“You’re a time traveler, you’re probably at the office sleeping right now,” Cavendish grumbles.

“Doesn’t do anything for _me_ , right here, right now,” Vinnie mumbles back, rubbing at his eyes and wincing when the right itches a little more than the left. He cleaned it twice over the weekend, he’s not sure why it’s bothering him after less than two day’s wear. “Hard not to fall asleep when I’m this bored.”

“Focus on the mission,” Cavendish replies snippily, staring intently out the windshield at the little sprouts of trees in the field before them. Vinnie snorts. “Well, find _some_ way of entertaining yourself so you don’t fall asleep!”

“We’re parked in a car in the middle of nowhere in the middle of the night, Cav, there’s only like, _maybe_ two things I can think of that might be mildly entertaining to do right now,” Vinnie says. “And one of them is tipping cows, which I’m not even sure is a real thing.”

“What’s the other one?” Cavendish asks, glancing at him curiously, and Vinnie can’t help the blush that spreads over his cheeks. He hopes it's not visible in the dark, but Cavendish doesn’t seem fooled, since his eyes narrow. “What?”

“Uh.” Vinnie says and gives a nervous laugh, reaching up to rub the back of his neck and head in embarrassment. “Well. You know.”

“No, I _don’t_ know, that’s why I _asked_ ,” Cavendish huffs.

“Haven’t you ever seen a movie?” Vinnie groans, gesturing vaguely with one hand as he covers his face with the other. _“Y’know.”_

“I…oh. Oh!” Cavendish straightens up a little in his seat at that, staring out the windshield at the pistachio trees like they might vanish if he looks away. Vinnie hums in agreement, a little embarrassed but mostly amused. A few tense moments pass, and Vinnie’s almost ready to just lean back and start trying to doze off again, but then Cavendish speaks.

“You mean, erm. You know…?” he trails off nervously, and Vinnie’s almost tempted to be sarcastic.

“Gettin’ busy, Cav, making out like teenagers, fogging up the windows, all that jazz,” Vinnie lists off a few euphemisms, counting them out on his fingers. “Y’know?”

“Yes,” Cavendish says faintly, fingers gripping the steering wheel like it’s all that’s keeping him from floating away. Vinnie sighs and puts an arm on the back of the seat, propping one foot up on the dash to try and get comfortable. His ass is starting to get pins and needles  from sitting too long, and if he wasn’t so sleepy he’s pretty sure he’d be fidgeting like mad with nothing to occupy his attention.

He nearly jumps out of his skin when Cavendish turns and leans over to wrap his arms around Vinnie’s neck.

“Wuh—” is all he gets out before Cavendish has pulled him into a kiss, and Vinnie’s certainly not going to protest _that_ , so he just wraps both arms around Cavendish’s torso to pull him closer.

“Ouch,” Cavendish complains when his leg collides with the gearshift, and Vinnie laughs softly against his lips.

“You’re the one who decided to actually make out in the car,” Vinnie says, fingers wandering up and down the length of Cavendish’s back through his suit jacket.

 _“You’re_ the one that brought it up in the first place, and then I couldn’t stop thinking about it—” Cavendish cuts himself off with a grumble, curling his legs underneath himself to scoot closer and kiss Vinnie more. Vinnie doesn’t press the issue, just tilts his head back so Cavendish doesn’t have to hunch over quite so much. Vinnie tries to turn to face him with the rest of his body so they can be closer, but Cavendish’s knees are in the way, and he growls in frustration.

Cavendish shudders at the sound, an honest-to-God mewl escaping him as they break apart.

“Scoot back some,” Vinnie says, and Cavendish almost looks hurt until he complies and Vinnie turns so he’s leaning against the door and he’s got one foot propped on the seat, knee pressed to the back and the other spread wide with his other foot planted on the floor. “C’mere.” Cavendish splutters and blushes from where he’s kneeling in the driver’s seat, hunched over so his head doesn’t hit the ceiling. His hat’s already been knocked askew, so Vinnie sits forward to reach up and pull it off, dropping it into the back as he slides his fingers around Cavendish’s tie to gently pull him forward.

“Come _here_ ,” Vinnie says again, smirking when Cavendish’s eyes go wide and dark, pupils blown as he willingly comes to be laid out over Vinnie, laying between his legs and pressing them up together from collar to crotch. He wraps his arms around Cav’s shoulders as Cavendish fists his hands in Vinnie’s jacket, bringing them close enough to start kissing again.

Vinnie’s hands run the length of Cavendish’s back a few times, reveling in the ability to just _touch_. Cavendish moans helplessly into his mouth, and Vinnie can’t help but grin.

“Dakota,” Cavendish says, half complaint because Vinnie’s amusement is getting in the way of kissing, but Cavendish’s voice is low and rasping, and Vinnie’s amusement is quickly wiped away by the sound.

“Yeah?” he asks as Cavendish reaches up to pull off his delicate glasses, setting them carefully on the dash. Cavendish then turns and presses impossibly closer to Vinnie, pressing ticklish kisses to Vinnie’s jaw and throat. “Oh,” Vinnie huffs, arching as Cavendish carefully explores kissing things other than Vinnie’s mouth. Vinnie tries not to turn into a panting, shaky mess, clinging to the thought that of the two of them, _he’s_ the more experienced and should be able to handle a little necking while lying close together.

Vinnie turns his head and starts pressing kisses to Cavendish’s cheek and temple, coaxing him into bringing their mouths back together. Vinnie shivers when Cavendish’s hands tighten in his jacket, fingers scratching at his skin through the material. The interior of the time machine is quiet and warm, the only noise that of them quietly moving together, the rasp of fabric and skin, the soft, wet sound of their mouths as Cavendish opens to Vinnie’s tongue. Vinnie moans at the wet heat of Cavendish’s tongue sliding against his own, and Vinnie’s hands automatically dip down towards Cavendish’s ass.

He remembers the last time he tried that though, and stops short, grabbing Cavendish’s belt instead.

Cavendish whines low in his throat, and Vinnie breaks the kiss with a gasp.

“Too much?” he breathes, the air between them hot and damp, fogging his sunglasses a little.

“No,” Cavendish growls, and his hips slide forward to slot against Vinnie’s and _oh_ , he’s hard, Cavendish is definitely hard, and Vinnie is so quickly right there with him it makes his vision go a little dark for a second. Cavendish bites his lip when Vinnie basically turns into a puddle underneath him, holding onto Cavendish’s belt and panting as he feels Cavendish throb against his hip.

“Dakota…?” Cavendish says, sounding uncertain as Vinnie struggles to collect enough brain cells to function with Cav hard and pressed so close.

“Bal,” Vinnie says, struggling not to just grab Cavendish’s ass with both hands and start rutting. “Can we…?”

“Can we what?” Cavendish murmurs, leaning down to brush a kiss to Vinnie’s trembling lips.

“ _Fuck_ ,” Vinnie swears, and it’s rough and not really intended as an answer, but works well enough. Either way, Cavendish’s hips jump forward at the word, and Vinnie’s self control breaks a little.

One hand slides down to cup Cav’s ass, two fingers tucked right into the space where his legs and his bum meet, the rest splayed over the curve of him so Vinnie can pull him closer and guide every thrust. The other goes up to tangle in Cavendish’s hair, and Vinnie pulls his head back to start kissing and nipping at the soft skin of his throat.

“Tell me if it’s too much,” Vinnie mumbles between kisses, lips buzzing against Cavendish’s neck as he speaks. “If you want to stop. Just—just tell me, okay, I’ll—”

“Dakota!” Cavendish gasps, hands fisted in Vinnie’s jacket as he arches and starts circling his hips in his own tiny, half-aborted movements, like he’s desperate but unsure.

“Okay, okay,” Vinnie mutters, repeating it until Cavendish starts kissing him again to shut him up. He starts guiding Cavendish’s hips, squeezing and pressing against Cav’s ass so they start to grind, and Vinnie does his best to coordinate their movements. They break apart after a minute because Cavendish can’t stop whimpering and Vinnie’s panting hard, grabbing Cavendish’s backside with both hands to pull him close, feeling every rough, dry slide as they frot through their clothes.

“Dakota,” Cavendish says, and it’s a clear warning, and Vinnie bitterly wishes they were naked, in a comfortable bed, it _is_ Cav’s first time.

He slows at the thought, frowning.

“Cav, do you—do you want to—?” Vinnie huffs, and Cavendish lifts his head from where he’s been resting it on Vinnie’s shoulder to glare at him.

“If you say _stop_ , I will never forgive you,” he says, hands spreading over Vinnie’s chest to grab brazenly at him, and Vinnie throws his head back as his hips buck up at the stimulation.

“Ok-AY,” Vinnie says, the last half of the word rising into a rough shout as Cavendish finds his nipples through the layers of fabric and pinches them between his fingers experimentally. “Fuck!” Cavendish groans and starts rutting against Vinnie with little care for rhythm or modesty, breathing fast and hot against Vinnie’s skin. Vinnie’s struggling not to come, he wants this to go on for just a little longer—

 _“Dakota.”_ It’s soft and weak, his name through gritted teeth like it’s being wrenched forth, and suddenly every drag of Cavendish’s hips turns long and slow, his entire body shuddering as he comes in his pants.

Vinnie moans, biting his lip as he struggles to tip over the edge. He can feel Cav’s cock twitching against his, wetness soaking through his breeches and into Vinnie’s tracksuit bottoms, and Cavendish lets out a tiny sound, something caught between a moan and a sigh, content and _satisfied_ , and Vinnie comes in his underwear with an embarrassing, strangled whimper. He goes loose and boneless under Cavendish, both of them breathing hard into the still silence.

Something rumbles in the distance, and then the not-so-distance, and they scramble to sit up, watching with open mouths as a water wheel rolls past them and promptly squashes the pistachio plants before continuing on its way.

They stare after it until it vanishes into the predawn dark, and then turn to look at each other, mouths still open. After a minute, Vinnie manages to clear his throat.

“So, uh, you wanna follow up with round two at my place?”

Cavendish swats him and Vinnie laughs trying to duck out of the way.

* * *

 

“So you didn’t complete your mission.” Block’s voice is slightly nasal and as sarcastic as always. “Why am I not surprised.”

“We, erm,” Cavendish tries before wilting a little at Block’s glare through the communicator. “We fell asleep.”

“Fell asleep,” Block repeats flatly, and they nod weakly, looking anywhere but at their commander. Cavendish is so pink Vinnie’s surprised Block hasn’t just guessed. “For you two idiots it’s nothing new. Maybe you won’t suck so bad tomorrow.” The screen goes dark as Block hangs up on them, and Cavendish’s shoulders slump.

“Speaking of sucking, the offer to come to my place is still on the table,” Vinnie says off-handedly, and tries not to start sweating when Cavendish turns his head to glare at him.

“Sex is why we failed this mission, Dakota! We shouldn’t have—” Cavendish cuts himself off with a frustrated groan, pressing the heel of his fisted hand to his forehead. “That was a bad idea.” Vinnie’s stomach takes an express elevator to his feet, and he tries not to let his disappointment show on his face.

“Do you regret it?” Vinnie asks hesitantly, knowing that if Cavendish says yes, if he wants to go back and never have sex…well. He could offer to wipe Cavendish’s memory of the event by going back and changing it, if he really does. One more Vinnie wouldn’t make a difference, and Cavendish would never know. He might do it anyway, even if Cavendish regrets it but doesn’t want to break TB policy.

“I…don’t know,” Cavendish sighs, rubbing a hand over his face and checking his watch. “Good God, it’s nearly six in the morning.”

“Yeah,” Vinnie says, knowing that even though he’s tired, if he goes to bed without Cavendish with him, he won’t be sleeping very well.

“I’ll drop you off at home, we can do the paperwork early tomorrow morning,” Cavendish sighs before pausing. “Which I mean, let’s go home and sleep for eight hours, and then come back in time to about…an hour from now to do the paperwork.”

“Sounds good to me,” Vinnie says and it’s brittle and entirely too calm. Cavendish winces and rubs at the back of his neck, taking off his glasses with a sigh.

“Can we talk about…the rest of it…later?” he asks, and he looks just as tired as Vinnie feels, which is pretty damn tired.

“Yeah,” Vinnie finally sighs, powerless in the face of this man he loves. “Yeah, we can do that.”

“Okay,” Cavendish says with relief, and they head home for a proper night’s sleep.

Vinnie lays in the dark for a long time, alone and wondering if he’s going to be reliving this night soon, except he’ll be the only one with the memory of them moving together in the time machine, desperate and eager and…happy. Enjoying being close, physically and emotionally, trusting each other and bonding and just having a really good time getting off together instead of bickering or stressing about the mission.

It’s not till he’s still awake hours after he laid down to sleep that he realizes he’s labeled his feelings for Cavendish as _love._

**Author's Note:**

> comments are love, comments are life
> 
> lmk if we missed any mistakes or [brackets!]


End file.
